


The Roughest Place I've Ever Been

by highflyerwings



Category: Actor RPF, Star Trek RPF
Genre: Alcohol, Dirty Dancing, M/M, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-02
Updated: 2014-01-02
Packaged: 2018-01-05 21:24:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1098749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/highflyerwings/pseuds/highflyerwings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zach and Chris take a road trip and get lost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Roughest Place I've Ever Been

**Author's Note:**

> Heavily inspired by the song ["Tin Pan Alley"](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mksM78S6D-Q&feature=related) by Stevie Ray Vaughan. I suggest listening to that song before you read the fic, or during, or after, doesn't matter, just listen to it.

The only thing that registered in Zach’s brain was the heat. He knew they were somewhere in the South. Mexico? Maybe it was Texas. It didn’t matter. It was hot. He was sitting at a bar, staring deep into a glass of whisky— _almost empty…need to fix that_ —his mind unnervingly vacant.

Chris had decided it was a good idea for the two to take a road trip together. The kind where you pack a change of underwear, get in the car, and pick a direction. They were two days in, and lost, though neither of them would acknowledge the fact. They were lost in some grimy, godforsaken town in _who-the-hell-knows-where_ , and all Zach had the energy to think about was the heat.

Why in the hell had he let Chris talk him into this? _God, that boy could sweet-talk_. Zach had seen him do it a million times to unsuspecting women. _Poor things hadn’t even seen it coming_. Zach thought he knew all the signs though; thought he was immune to Chris’s wily ways. Apparently, he thought wrong.

Now, here he was in Mexico… _Texas?...fuck, he really should figure it out_ …but it could have been Hell for all he cared. And he suspected Hell wasn’t much of a stretch.

He looked up from his glass and caught the bartender’s eye. He held up his glass and shook it, signaling his need for another.

As he awaited his refill, he slowly turned and looked around the bar.  He wondered absentmindedly whether he should just ask someone where they were, but quickly discarded the thought. He turned until his back was against the bar, elbows resting on the ledge.

The air in the bar was thick and sticky with humidity. The room was dark, and filled with smoke that created hazy patterns in the air against the light. Something was casting an eerie glow around the room, and if Zach didn’t know any better he’d swear it was the product of fire light rather than electricity. _Where the hell are we?_ At least his thoughts had the decency to be at least slightly bewildered, even amid his deteriorating sobriety.

The place was quiet, and almost empty. Its patrons (what few there were) too drunk on their sorrows and Jack to work up the energy to do much else besides sit in silence. _Or maybe they were just hot_. Zach didn’t know which one it was, but he was beginning to sympathize with them.

The only thing that broke the drunken silence was the juke box in the corner that had been playing on random for at least an hour. _A juke box? Seriously?  Do places like this even exist in real life?_

He reached for his glass behind him and took a drink as a new song started playing. He slowly turned his attention to the juke box, and was surprised when his gaze met the back of his friend.

Chris was bent slightly, hands gripping the sides of the machine. His head drooped a little and his hips were swaying. _That’s weird_. Zach took another drink and stared intently at his friend, which he could still only see the back side of.  
  
Chris was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, and looked to be just as hot as Zach felt, judging by the sheen of perspiration on his arms and neck, visible even from across the room.

Finally, Chris dropped his arms to his side and slowly turned around. As he moved away from the machine he continued to sway, whole body now. His eyes were closed and his head nodded along with the rest of him.

He was lost in the song.

Zach had never heard the song before, but was quite sure his friend had. _You can’t pick a song like that at random and know just how to move with it_.

Zach’s eyes narrowed as he watched Chris. The guy could dance. Zach had seen enough evidence in the past to convince him of the fact. He just couldn’t remember ever seeing his friend move quite like… _that. Did he always move like that_? It was slow, and lazy, and sensual. Zach’s mouth twitched. _Seriously,where are we?_

He drained his glass, wincing slightly at the burn, and set it down on the bar. He didn’t know what made him do it, but he stood up.  He felt like he was being pulled by a force too strong for him to control or fight against, and in a move that was uncharacteristically _him_ , he yielded and allowed himself to be controlled.  A part of him wanted to see what would happen, and followed, while the other part was still stuck at the bar watching.

Up close, Zach got a better look at the sweat glistening on Chris’s skin. In the weird light of the bar, Chris looked like he was glowing, and Zach had the sudden urge to reach out and touch; to see if he felt as slick as he looked.

There was something so wrong about watching someone like this; with their eyes closed, and unaware of another’s presence. It was voyeuristic, and a chill ran up Zach’s spine at the thought. He knew it should feel wrong. But it didn’t.

Zach moved until he was close enough to feel the heat radiating from Chris’s body. His eyes roamed over the man in front of him, taking in everything: parted lips that turned up ever so slightly at one corner, the curve of his neck, shoulders, down muscular arms, fingers ( _he’d never noticed Chris’s fingers before_ ), hips still swaying, legs ( _nice legs_ ). He knew it should feel wrong, but he didn’t care. He was drunk, and hot, and _fuck this was nice_.

He suddenly realized he was swaying along with Chris. Jesus, the guy didn’t even have to open his mouth to get people to do what he wanted. Zach’s eyes felt heavy as he stared at various points on Chris’s body. The song— _God, that song_ —sounded like it was coming from inside his head, or his heart, or some place deeper. It was all he could hear.

Suddenly Chris’s voice broke through, low and husky

“I love this song.”

Zach startled himself with a quiet moan that escaped his lips without permission. _Fuck_. He watched in amazement as his hand reached out and he grazed his fingertips against the back of Chris’s hand, and then began a slow journey upwards. His vision tunneled as he barely ghosted his fingers over Chris’s arm, tracing the muscle, and reveling in the feel of skin, damp with sweat. The blood was pounding in his ears, intensifying the song that had already invaded his nervous system.

He felt a strong hand reach out and rest on his hip, pulling him closer. _Shit_. His eyes threatened to close for an instant, but he fought the urge. He wanted to watch. Chris’s eyes were still closed, and Zach liked that.  He thought it was best. His fingers finally reached Chris’s shoulder, their destination, where he let his arm drape loosely over.

The two slowly swayed as they inched closer, closing the gap between them. Finally— _finally_ —they were flush against one another. Zach felt Chris’s other hand reach up to rest on his other hip. Their movements were slow, and lazy, and _fucking perfect_.

Somewhere between the bar and Chris, Zach had been hypnotized. He wasn’t even thinking about the heat anymore, just the incessant rhythm of the music and the slow swaying of two bodies (one of which he wasn’t quite sure was his anymore).

Chris pulled closer, rolling his hips firmly into Zach’s. He still hadn’t opened his eyes. _Was he even awake?_ Chris’s head lolled backwards and he sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and bit down in an attempt to stifle a deep groan that still somehow managed to force its way out. Zach felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. His nostrils flared, and his pupils dilated. He widened his stance, deepening the slow grind into Chris’s hips.

A dim thought flickered through his mind that maybe Chris was drunk; too drunk to stop actions that he surely would have protested under sober circumstances. At this point though, Zach didn’t care. He didn’t even feel bad for not caring. He just pulled Chris closer, rolled his hips a littler harder, and thought he might die when he heard Chris moan again.

Things were moving beyond the point of hazy now, to _completely fucking gone_.

“Chris,” Zach’s voice was breathless, rough, and ragged, like he hadn’t spoken for days. "Let's go,” he said.

Chris resurfaced from whatever world he’d been living in, and opened his eyes. They were heavy lidded and slightly glazed like he was having trouble focusing. He let out another groan that vibrated through Zach’s entire body, “ _God, yes_.”

Zach was distantly aware of the song ending as he turned to lead Chris out of the bar. He was seething at the sudden loss of physical contact, but fought the urge to grab the body following close, but not close enough, behind him, as his eyes burned a path to the door.

He didn’t care so much anymore about where they were. Being lost wasn’t such a bad thing, after all. He liked this dark, perfect Hell they’d fallen into, and he didn’t care if they ever found their way out.

**Author's Note:**

> Read the [sequel](http://anythingever.livejournal.com/16803.html).


End file.
